


Claims

by Spoon888



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Starscream being Starscream, Sticky, Tarn Typical Gore, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23041261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: At least now Tarn knows why Megatron keeps taking Starscream off The List.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream, Megatron/Starscream/Tarn, Minor Megatron/Tarn, Starscream/Tarn
Comments: 29
Kudos: 277





	Claims

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moonscream (ServingSmoothies)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ServingSmoothies/gifts).



Opportunities to present Megatron with his hard earned trophies in person were few and far between, but always worth the trip.

Tarn held the decapitated head of the latest traitor from it's severed neck cabling, still dripping energon, and still warm. The optics were dark and the mouth gawping gruesomely, and as Tarn strode purposely through the halls of the flagship, those Decepticons who didn't simply flee at the mere sight of _him_ , looked one close look away from purging their last ration at the sight of the head.

Unfortunately, Megatron was not on the Command Bridge, nor the Throne Room, but holed up in his Command Quarters. It meant Tarn would not be presenting his offering to the usual audience of Decepticon High Command, and the dragging of a severed head through the halls of the ship was an almost entirely unnecessary performance if it meant notorious traitor Starscream wasn't going to witness it.

Nevertheless, Megatron appreciated a little justified gore as much as the next Decepticon. Tarn would simply have to wait until next time to terrorise the seeker.

He arrived at Megatron's door and pressed the buzzer to announce his arrival. Energon dripped down the head and pitter-patted on the decking at his pedes.

The door was not answered for some time. Unusual behaviour for his Lord. When the panel finally did flash green and allow the door to slide away, Tarn stepped into an unexpectedly dimly lit entry way. Megatron was no where to be seen.

He had been granted the honour of entering Megatron's quarters before, but _only_ the entry way. The berthroom lay behind a door on the left, and Megatron being a mech who demanded privacy, it was usually sealed away from prying optics. Today it was open.

Tarn stepped in line with the doorway and turned his head. The second room was even darker, only one desk-light casting orange tinted illumination into the room.

"Tarn," Megatron's disembodied rasp summoned him.

Tarn took measured steps into the sanctity of Megatron's private berthroom, and halted just over the threshold, unwilling to inadvertently intrude. Megatron was sat at a desk in the corner, but he was nursing a cube and didn't appear to be working on anything. Something about his demeanour was off- decidedly less professional than Tarn was used too. He wasn't drunk, per se, but he had lost his usual air of stoicism.

Slumped in the desk chair, thighs parted, chin close to his chest, Megatron's slitted optics looked him up and down. His gaze rolled over the dripping head Tarn held. He nodded. "Good work."

Tarn's chest filled with unbridled pride. A feeling that did not last long -when the sound of shifting sheets reached his audials in the dark room.

He turned at the neck towards the berth -his Lord's berth, which he now realised, was _occupied_.

The slumbering form was small, which was how they had escaped his notice, and winged. And though it was difficult to tell under all the rich, heavy, fabrics and the minimal lighting, the wings were _white_.

His engine turned over with an indignant snarl.

"Starscream," he rumbled, recalling with a surge of lingering frustration how _that_ very seeker had appeared on his list just the cycle before. Only to have been struck through at the request of 'upper command' without an explanation mere hours ago.

Oh, he _wondered why?!_

He was surprised his mere presence hadn't roused the usually cautious seeker. Starscream was unmoving and unguarded, lying on his front and snoozing away, oblivious to how close he was to literal death.

"Leave him," Megatron commanded.

Tarn's gaze snapped back to Megatron, optics wide. His expression must have said it all though, because Megatron sighed and set aside his drink. "Starscream has repented."

Tarn's optics narrowed. Starscream would have paid 'penance' with his silver tongue and his deceitful mouth and likely -from the rumbled state of the sheets and Megatron's very stated demeanour- that tight little hole between his thighs. As though a 'face was a fair trade for treachery.

It irked Tarn, not understanding _why_. Megatron was not a fool, and yes, Starscream was beautiful, but many Decepticons were and none of them were traitors.

But it wasn't his place to question his leader's decisions. Even in regards to the greatest traitor of all. He sated his temper with the knowledge that one day, _one_ day, Starscream's honeyed promises would fail him.

And _he_ would be waiting.

"You question my motives?"

Tarns gaze snapped up. Megatron was watching him, waiting for a response. His tone had been light, but that didn't make this conversation any less dangerous.

"I question _his_ ," Tarn tipped his head back in the traitor's direction.

On the berth, Starscream's vents were quiet and shallow. The white wing peaking out from beneath the covers twitched as he dreamt, and had Tarn not known better, the seeker did paint a picture of innocence.

Megatron swept up his cube, finished it with a sigh, and rose. Tarn watched passively as his leader crossed the room to the berth where Starscream lay. He sat on the edge next to the seeker, and slowly, carefully, drew down the heavy sheets until the full expanse of Starscream's narrow back and broad wings were revealed.

Had Tarn not already known what had occurred in the berth, it was obvious now. Starscream's wings where littered with little finger-sized indents from rough, passionate handling. Tarn's treacherous mind conjured imagery of the acts that might have put those dents in place - Megatron rolling across his berth with the traitor, manhandling him, throwing him about, Starscream's grating voice yowling in pain and pleasure.

His temperature gage rose.

"Perhaps, a demonstration?" Megatron murmured, and Tarn became enraptured by the hand Megatron lifted to and dwarfed Starscream's shoulder with. A little shake, an objectionable groan, and fabric shifted and rustled as the seeker gradually roused.

There was a disgusted huff as Starscream's head lifted out of the depths of the berth padding, " _Again_ , you incorrigible old-"

Almond shaped optics found Tarn looming over the berth, and Tarn felt a moment of great satisfaction when fear filled Starscream's snakelike features. But Megatron's hand squeezed the seeker's shoulder and it was gone in an instant, as though their leader's presence reassured Starscream. Anger surged through Tarn's frame when confidence replaced the fear in Starscream's optics.

"Tarn," Starscream rolled over, his voice was as oily as his smile. "What a wonderful surprise. And I see you brought ... _company_." His gaze fell to the dripping head.

Tarn thrust it forwards and Starscream rolled across the berth with a shriek of disgust.

"Enough!" Megatron barked, catching Starscream by the wing before he could escape off the other end. Tarn shifted his footing, feeling foolish for being so easily goaded. An apology -to _Megatron_ \- was on the tip of his glossa. He didn't need to voice it though.

"Once again, _Tarn_ has performed above and beyond his duties," Megatron praised pointedly, prompting a thunderous scowl from Starscream. "And it's only fair he receive a reward for such dedication to the cause."

Such praise and acknowledgement would have filled Tarn with pride, but not with Starscream watching from Megatron's berth, and not with the sudden smirk curling across his lips.

"A _reward_ , you say?" Starscream reaffirmed, brushing Megatron's hand from his wing and shifting to lay on his side, his head propped against a hand and the other laid seductively along the rising swell of his hips.

And those cursed hips were the work of Unicron himself. Tarn knew seeker's were built in _that_ shape to give them a lower centre of gravity to compensate for the weight of their wings, but often times they simply looked like they'd been manufactured from parts borrowed from a production line of share-ware.

His core temperature surged up, cooling fans ticking on.

Starscream arched his back a little, pushing his cockpit out, exaggerating the hourglass of his figure. "You must have had a long journey, Tarn. Megatron's berth is big enough for three."

"Isn't it just," Megatron confirmed in a bored tone, beckoning him.

The severed head slipped from Tarn's fingers and fell with a thud and squelch to the decking. The unexpected turn of events seemed to have routed Tarn to the spot, and Starscream's smile only widened.

Megatron made an irritated noise.

"I haven't got all cycle," he growled, and too impatient to let Starscream play with his food, hauled the seeker up out of his sultry position and into his lap. Annoyed at the manhandling and the interruption, Starscream squirmed, grappling in protest. Their armour scrapped and clanged but when limbs stopped moving and mouths stopped hissing, Megatron was sat on the edge of the berth with a decidedly grumpy Starscream in his lap. Starscream was sat back to chest with Megatron, his leader's thick arm pinned across his upper chest. His legs had been spread open by Megatron's own, and the intimate paneling between his thighs was visible even in the dim of the room.

Tarn took a step to see better, noting the smudges and streaks around the seams of the panels. Lubricant. Transfluid too, he assumed. Territory Megatron had previously marked, and now seemed inclined to share with him.

That was what was arousing him. Not Starscream's cheap, manufactured beauty. But Megatron's willingness to reward him by sharing what was -apparently- of value to him.

Keeping Starscream pinned, Megatron rubbed the seeker's cockpit firmly. Starscream's scowl faltered, his chassis rising to the touch. His dark lips wobbled with a whine when Megatron's touch drifted lower. Megatron began tracing the soiled seams of Starscream's panel with two fingers.

Tarn bent and leaned in when the panel clicked and folded away. Starscream's valve was small and dark. There was evidence of use from not so long ago, the outer rim glistening with the silver of transfluid where he was _still_ leaking it. Tarn exhaled and his hot ex-vent must have tickled the sensors of Starscream's valve. It quivered. Starscream's breath hitched.

Tarn looked to Megatron, wanting, no _needing_ permission. Megatron was nosing at the side of Starscream's helm, his optics indulgently dim. He said nothing, but his arm tightened around Starscream chest, and his fingers spread the folds of Starscream's valve to expose the inner rim.

Starscream scoffed, wriggling, "For Primus's sake. _One_ of you had better frag me!"

The tip of Tarn's spike sprung from it's sheath and hit the inside of his panel. With a twitch he unlatched it and allowed his spike to fill with energon and grow to it's full, hard, length. It swayed a little under is own weight, and he was proud to see how Starscream's optics brightened at the sight of it. Megatron shifted, leaning back a little and angling Starscream's frame for better access. He still held Starscream's valve open, and all Tarn had to do was crouch, his spike drawn to the opening by magnetic fields.

Megatron kissed Starscream's long neck, and Starscream's inner thighs shook with anticipation. Tarn nudged his spike against Starscream's opening, engine turning over at Starscream's reaction -a sharp inhale, optics shuttering tight, brow creasing. Megatron rumbled wordlessly, his face now close to Tarn's over Starscream's shoulder. Tarn placed a hand on Starscream's thigh to keep him open, marvelling at the heat radiating from the seeker's frame.

Tarn rolled his hips forward and sank into Starscream. His valve was warm and shamefully wet, and despite it's small size, spiralled open to accept his thick girth like a well fitting glove. Megatron's fingers moved up from Starscream's opening to circle his exterior node instead. His touch was unexpectedly reverent. Stsrscream made a soft noise, his optics fluttering back online, a goofy, open-mouthed expression unbefitting such a dangerous schemer drifted across his face.

Tarn sank his spike in to the hilt, groaning when his hips met Starscream's aft. Megatron was fondling Starscream's turbines now. He pinched the pointed tip between his fingers and Starscream tightened around Tarn with a pathetic little coo. Tarn rolled his hips, savouring the grip of Starscream's callipers. He was beginning to understand.

Megatron's hand moved from Starscream's chest to grip his neck. Tarn saw his fist squeeze and heard Starscream's vents hitch as his air supply was cut off. The valve spasmed around him like Megatron's throat hold was arousing the seeker. Tarn began to rock his hips, unable to help himself.

"Starscream goes to extraordinarily lengths for my attention." Megatron met Tarn's masked gaze over the seeker's fluttering wing. He squeezed again and Starscream wheezed, his optics dimming. "Don't you, Starscream?"

Starscream's expression twisted with disagreement, but another clench of Megatron's hand had him nodding frantically. Megatron released his throat, and Starscream sucked in a sharp breath, optics shuttering in relief.

" _Megatron_ ," he warbled, voice soft and weak and unchallenging. He sounded like a programmed pleasure drone, rather than Starscream. Perhaps that was what he was, and the real Decepticon Air Commander had already met his end.

"Put him in his place, Tarn," Megatron said. And it was an order. Tarn was more than happy to obey.

He planted his pedes, took a glossy white thigh in each hand and began to move. Megatron rested his chin on Starscream's shoulder to watch, his salacious smirk brushing the edge of Starscream's audial. Starscream writhed sinuously, his sinfully curvaceous frame rolling with Tarn's measured pace. His valve rippled and squeezed around Tarn like he was close.

The sounds Starscream was making were soft and pleasured, but Tarn knew he could be louder. Knew he was for Megatron. His leader was watching him, judging his performance.

With a snarling growl, Tarn began to ride Starscream, moving his spike back and forth as fast as he could and building friction. Starscream panted and held onto Megatron's arms, arching his back against their leader's chest as he urged his hips up to meet Tarn's rolling thrusts. He was draped over Megatron's front like an armoured blanket, his helm lolling back across their leader's huge shoulder.

As Tarn pounded away his gaze wandered from the seeker's shameless display to Megatron's impassive gaze. He leant a little closer with every pump of his hips, driving into Starscream but enraptured with Megatron, closing in until his vision was encompassed by his leader's stoic optics. His mask brushed the tip of Megatron's nose. His leader's warm breath dusted across the metal plate.

"Tarn," Megatron purred.

The unexpected purr undid Tarn and overload slammed into him. He came with a shocked, loud, cry, slamming his spike deep into Starscream and prompting a sharp screech from him. He held Megatron's gaze as his spike twitched and flooded Starscream's valve with transfluid. He moaned as it began to fade all too quickly, rocking his hips just to get a little more. A smirk had curved Megatron's mouth and he was still so close, still within claiming distance. If only Starscream wasn't between them-

A clawed servo drifted into view and in his distraction Tarn wasn't quick enough to flinch away from Starscream. Clever fingers found the latch for his mask like Starscream had known _exactly_ where it was, and knocked it askew. Tarn dropped Starscream and scrambled to right it, when a larger, warmer hand cupped his jaw. He froze, hardly daring to breath when the mask was lifted and held aloft by Megatron himself.

Starscream was watching sleepily where he rested on Megatron's shoulder, but Tarn no longer cared for his presence.

Megatron leant in, tilted his helm, hesitated just a beat, and kissed him. Tarn's spark exploded into a thousand flares of fire. He tingled from the tips of his fingers to the treads of his pedes. Megatron's tongue slipped between his lips and twined with his own. Tarn's optics fluttered shut and he moaned, utterly undone. He kissed back carefully, terrified of ending this too soon, of breaking the spell. Megatron tasted like energon and _power_ , authority and the fires of revolution. Tarn thought he might die if their kiss ever came to an end, if he ever lost the perfection that was Megatron's attention-

Megatron drew back slowly, tongue withdrawing. Their lips lingered together for three blissful spark-beats, before Megatron parted from him and left him mouthing stupidly at the air, lips wet and cooling.

After what could have been an eternity, he flickered his optics back online, fearing he'd just blacked out.

Megatron was watching him, expression utterly unreadable. Starscream was glaring at him, optics burning vengefully. Had Tarn not known better, he might have thought they looked a little green.

He scowled back at the seeker, forgetting his mask couldn't hide his expression.

Starscream stretched his lithe frame out and curled a possessive arm around Megatron's shoulder. His movement pulled on Tarn's spike, and he realised belatedly that they were still joined.

"We should invite him back," Starscream surprised him by purring into Megatron's audial. "Maybe next time he can spike _you_?"

Tarn's knees wanted to give out at just the idea -but it wasn't a fantasy Megatron seemed to share. And Starscream must have been counting on that.

Megatron scoffed and turned his head away from Starscream, and just like that, Starscream had broken the spell. Megatron knocked the seeker off his lap and subsequently off of Tarn's spike. Tarn stumbled back when his Leader rose, putting a respectable distance between them.

"That will be all, Tarn," Megatron dismissed him, moving back towards the desk.

Tarn's buzz abruptly evaporated. On the berth, Starscream was reclining back, looking gleefully smug. Tarn made the mistake of meeting his gaze before turning to leave, and Starscream very clearly mouthed at him. " _He's **mine**."_

Tarn swept up his severed head from the decking and marched out of the door, crushing the cranium under his fingers.

He sated his anger with the knowledge that unless Megatron routinely went about kissing his subordinates, he had a fairly good chance of successfully challenging Starscream's claim on their leader.

And maybe then he could finally hand out some long awaited justice.


End file.
